Reborn in Type-Moon, My Sister is Aoko Aozaki

[You and your sister Artoria have successfully returned to Camelot from Orkney County.]

[Although when you returned, Merlin looked as if he had died from overwork in the workroom, fortunately, no one had discovered your sister's private excursion, nor had anyone discovered your disappearance.]

[Although Merlin seemed to have some complaints about your sister Artoria's willful behavior, in the end, he said nothing, just let out a weary sigh and slowly departed.]

[Your sister Artoria has returned to her usual self, throwing herself into her official duties, which puts you, who had been somewhat worried about her mental state, slightly at ease.]

[However, that night, your sister, seemingly worried that Morgan would use some trick to take you away again, proposes that it would be best for the two of you to rest together every night from now on to avoid such a possibility.]

[You don't know what your sister is worried about, but considering that you were also responsible for your previous disappearance, which caused her to worry, you don't hesitate for long before nodding and agreeing to your sister's suggestion.]

[However, that night, the force with which your sister Artoria embraces you in her sleep is exceptionally strong, and you don't rest very well.]

[But these are just trivial matters. What's important is that the war instigated by the Saxons and the Picts is still ongoing.]

[Before long, you follow your sister Artoria and the Knights of the Round Table, once again assembling an army to protect Britain, beginning the war against the Saxons and the Picts.]

[Although the Saxons continue to cross the sea in wave after wave to invade Britain, the war with the Picts, who have always been in the north, is finally brought to an end through your efforts.]

[Despite your worries about the massive consumption of rations required by the army during this process, fortunately, Lancelot, a great lord from a foreign land, has been supporting you all this time, allowing the war with the Picts to come to a successful conclusion.]

[You return in triumph, receiving the cheers of the people in the Chalk-White Castle.]

[But the problem remains the same as before. Although the people are worried about the ceaseless wars, they are even more concerned about the issue of the throne's succession.]

[And finally, one day, under the pressure of these endless rumors, the Knights of the Round Table also become somewhat worried and try to persuade your sister Artoria to marry quickly and produce an heir.]

[But your sister resolutely refuses every time, leaving the Knights of the Round Table at a loss.]

"I have discovered a sad secret."

In the courtyard of the Chalk-White Castle, Camelot, Tristan was not wearing his usual melancholic expression. Instead, his face was grave, as if he were bearing some kind of mental pressure. He opened his eyes and stared at Lancelot, who was sitting opposite him.

"What secret?"

Lancelot took a sip of water, his eyes filled with confusion and curiosity.

It was a rare time of rest, not long after the end of the last war. He just didn't know what had gotten into his friend, to pull him out to the courtyard alone like this.

"Although it is very difficult to admit, I believe that our king... probably likes men."

"Pfft—! Cough, cough... Wait, what did you just say?"

Lancelot instantly spat out the water he hadn't fully swallowed. After a few violent coughs, he seemed to finally process the words and stood up, his face filled with anger.

"Although we are friends, I cannot accept you insulting our king like this! Please apologize at once, Tristan!"

Lancelot made a move to draw the holy sword at his waist to prove the innocence of the lord he had sworn allegiance to, but Tristan just looked at him with a sorrowful expression and sighed softly.

"I know this is hard to accept, Lancelot, but have you never wondered why His Majesty has not married after so long?"

"Isn't that because he hasn't met a suitable person? Besides, His Majesty has also said that he is currently considering matters of the state and the Saxons, and that such things can be put aside for now."

"Then how do you explain the fact that His Majesty goes to Sir En's room to rest almost every night?"

"You... what?"

Lancelot froze, his hand unconsciously loosening its grip on his sword hilt. Tristan continued as if recalling a memory.

"I happened to see it some time ago. At first, I didn't think much of it, but later, I would see His Majesty heading to Sir En's room from time to time after leaving the workroom. And occasionally, I would even see His Majesty emerging from Sir En's room the next morning, looking refreshed and invigorated."

"But... His Majesty and En are adoptive brothers. What's so strange about that?"

"Normally, it wouldn't be strange. But I've asked Sir Gawain and Sir Gaheris. At their age, even brothers wouldn't sleep together every night."

"Then, perhaps it's just that His Majesty and En are particularly close..."

Lancelot said with uncertainty, unconsciously sitting back down, his hand holding the cup of water trembling slightly.

"I hope so. But don't you find it strange, Lancelot? Have you not noticed that whenever His Majesty looks at Sir En, his gaze is different from when he looks at others? As someone who has experienced some rather... complicated matters, I know very well that it is not the look of familial affection as we commonly know it, but rather the gaze one gives to a beloved person of the opposite sex."

Tristan stated his conclusion. And at that moment, Lancelot's mouth was already hanging open in shock, his expression frozen as he sat in his chair, his hand still holding the cup.

In contrast, Tristan seemed to let out a sigh of relief, a sense of "I finally don't have to bear this heavy secret alone" washing over him.

He smiled helplessly and looked at Lancelot.

"Thank you, Lancelot, for being willing to listen to me. When I first confirmed this, I was also in great pain. But no matter what, that person is the king we have sworn to serve."

"And honestly, after all the battles these days, I had thought that our king had turned himself into a rational machine for the sake of the country, that he would no longer consider the feelings of those who can only start wars to fight wars, yet suffer so greatly from them."

"But now I know that our king is also only human, with his own private desires, also enduring his own pain. In that case, we need only to guard his side faithfully."

"Of course, I must trouble you to keep this secret with me."

Having released all the mental pressure he had accumulated over these days, Tristan stood up and left after saying this, his steps noticeably lighter.

Lancelot, who had just come back to his senses, hurriedly called out.

"Wait, this secret..."

But before he could finish, Tristan's figure had already disappeared from his sight, leaving Lancelot to blink in a daze.

Why did you have to tell me this secret!? I don't want to bear this kind of pressure!

Only now did Lancelot understand why Tristan had looked so haggard and overwhelmed earlier.

Indeed, if any one of the Round Table Knights were to learn this secret, they would feel immense pain and pressure. After all, in their minds, King Arthur had always been the embodiment of the ideal king, a symbol of nobility and integrity.

And now, to learn that he had such a relationship in secret with the boy who was also respected by the Round Table Knights...

Lancelot was already beginning to feel a dull ache in his stomach. He tremblingly finished the rest of the water, glanced around, his brow furrowed, and muttered to himself.

"N-No, this secret is too heavy. I'm sorry, my king. Please allow me to confide in someone. Gawain is clearly stronger of spirit than I am. Please let him guard this secret with us!"

With that, Lancelot hurriedly left the courtyard to find a certain someone.

[And so, in a time unknown to you and your sister Artoria, a secret began to spread among the Knights of the Round Table.]

[But the reason a secret is called a secret is precisely because no one knows it.]

[Under such unbearable pressure from the Knights of the Round Table, your sister Artoria eventually heard the rumors about herself.]

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